No matter how fine the instrument, a lute always needed tuning. He sat down beside it and cradled it to him.

There were eight courses on this instrument, two strings per course except for the highest note, and this lute hadnat been properly tuned in a while. As he settled into the familiar chore, the shaky, frightened feeling in his stomach began to settle.

He tightened pegs by slight movements, because there were no extra strings sitting around if he broke one. As the lute started to come up to tune, he noticed that the man whoad set the fretting had had an ear as good as his owna"perhaps head been a Bard, too.

He tried a simple refrain and knew in a rush of relief that this was what head needed. For a long time he just played bits of this and that, letting the music salve the hurt that had been done to him.

At last his fingers hit upon a tune that his ears enjoyed, a piece his grandfather had written to welcome the coming of spring. He closed his eyes and let the music fill him until everything else was distant, where it could no longer harm him. He took a deep breath that filled his lungs with the scent of lilacs.

Magic.

He opened his eyes, stilled his hands, and took another breath. The scent had faded, but he could still smell the sweet flowers until his sinuses closed. His eyes watered and he sneezed twice; Lilacs always made him sneeze.

Perhaps, he thought, they donat know as much about Traveler magic as they think they do.

There was a scuffle outside his door, as if someone fumbled with a key.

aDrat,a said a young manas voice. aDrat, drat. This key is supposed to open any door in the palace. Wait, ah. A turnkey box.a There was some more rustling and a jangle of keys rattling together. The door of his cell creaked open.

aEr, hallo?a A rather pudgy young face peered around the edge of the door.

aHello,a Tier said mildly, though his body was tense and ready to act.

aLook, I hope I didnat wake you or . . . your light was still on so I thought . . .a The young man stumbled to a halt.

aCome in,a invited Tier genially. Keys, he thought, lowering his eyelids. This boy would be noa"

He rolled to his feet abruptly. aWhat in the name of the seven flaming hells is that?a The boy looked over his shoulder at the dark, nebulous shape behind him for a moment.

aYou can see it?a he asked, sounding unhappy. aMost people canat. Itas . . . ah . . . it calls itself a Memorya"as if thatas a name. I havenat figured it out exactly myself. It doesnat usually linger like this.a As the thing moved into the room, Tier took a step back from the overwhelming presence it carried with it. He sat back on his bed and tried to look peaceful.

aIam sorry,a the boy apologized.

Tier turned his attention back to him with an effort, and noticed for the first time the quality of the clothes he was wearing. Velvet embroidered in heavy metal threads that looked as if they were really gold.

aLook,a said the boy again. aI donat know why youare here. These arenat the regular holding cells. But for some reasonaa"he gave an odd, short laugha"aI think you might help me with a problem Iave been looking into.a And the boy took a piece of parchment head been holding and thrust it at Tier. He sat beside him on the bed, started to point at something and then stopped.

aDo you read?a he asked. aNot to be offensive, you understand, but youare dressed likea"a aI can read Common,a said Tier. Head learned under the Sept of Gerant, making him one of the double handful of people who could read in Redern.

Since the Memory, whatever that was, had decided to stay on the far side of the cell, Tier allowed himself to look more closely at the writing on the parchment.

aLook here,a said the boy, sounding more authoritative. aThis is nominally just a simple award for a job well done. Except that usually properties that belong to one Sept arenat gifted to anothera"certainly not with a vague afor services to the Empire.a See?a Tier looked at what he held with disbelief. It appeared to be a law document of some sort.

First Tier had thought that the boy might be one of Telleridgeas wizards, especially with the thing that had followed him in. Then head been almost certain that he was one of the Passerines Myrceria had told him about. Now . . .

He cleared his throat. aAre you a member of the Secret Path?a aIf Iam not, does that mean you canat tell me the answer?a The disingenuous answer made Tier laugh in spite of his generally lousy mood. The young man gave him a pleased smile.

aActually, Iave never heard of the Secret Path. Though, if you put any three nobles together, theyall start four secret societies of something.a Tier nodded his head slowly. aIad been given the impression that the Path members had taken over this bit of the palace and made it their own. If youare not one, how did you find your way here?a The boy shrugged. aThe palace has enough rooms to house the whole city and then some. The first fifteen Emperors Phoran spent all their time building the place and the next ten tried to figure out what to do with all the roomsa"mostly close them up. At least two of them, the eighth and the fourteentha"or the seventh and the thirteenth if youad rather not give a number to the first Phorana"were fascinated by secret rooms and passages. By happy chance I stumbled upon the plans of Eight and actively sought Fourteenas. Once I had them, I hid them myself. At any rate, they give me ready access to most of the palace. Not that thereas usually much to see.a aI see,a said Tier, rather dazzled by all the eights who might have been sevensa"there was a song in that somewhere. He hadnat really thought about how the Path had managed to secret off such a big chunk of building. He had a hard time wrapping his mind around a building so large that the Path could use a section for generations and not have it discovered.

aIam not a lawyer,a Tier said finally. aNor do I know anything about the Septs. I donat see how I can help you.a The boy frowned. aI asked if there was someone who could help me find out more about the piece of land in question. Is there any reason that you would know something about the Sept of Gerantas lands?

aThe Sept of Gerant?a exclaimed Tier, distracted from the question of who knew enough to send this boy after him.

aThatas right,a said the boy. aI donat know him by face, but it sounds as if youave met him.a aHeall not have been at court,a murmured Tier, reading the rest of the document rapidly. aHeas an old warrior, not fitted for wearing silks and such. The Sept of Jenne, hmm.a aI have this, if it helps,a said the boy, and he pulled a small, faded map from a pocket. aI can show you where the land in question isa"I just donat know whatas so important about it.a The soft hand that handed Tier a map had a signet ring on it. Tier noticed and catalogued it, but he was thinking about the map so it took him a moment before he realized who was sitting on his bed beside him.

The Emperor?

His night had acquired a new level of strangeness. Tier glanced at the Memory. Was it some sort of body guard?

He forced his eyes back to the map. If the Emperor had wanted him to know who he was talking to, he would have introduced himself.

The boy tapped a spot on the old map. aThatas where it is. It doesnat even connect to Jenneas lands.a Tier closed his eyes and thought back twenty years, trying to make the lines on the map correspond to the land he had known rather well at one time.

aWater rights,a he said finally. aThatas the headwaters of the creek that gives Gerantas people water. This piece of land belongs to the Sept of Jenneas father-in-lawa"or it did twenty years ago. The current Sept might be the son or grandson of the man Iam thinking of, but at any rate, the landas in Jenneas familyas hands. Itas pretty useless despite its size, because itas in the rainshadow of Brulles Mountaina"wonat grow anything but sagebrush. If Jenne had control of Brullesa"that strip of map should be marked to show the mountaina"he could hire a wizard to divert the flow of water and send it down the other side of the mountain, or find some way of diverting the small river that runs on the wrong side for their purposes.a aHah,a the boy exclaimed happily. aItas a payoff. Thatas the one I want, then. What can you tell me about Gerantas allies?a Tier hesitated. aGerantas a good man,a he said.

The boy raised an eyebrow. aIam not planning on hurting him. I . . .a Now it was his turn to hesitate.

aI suspect,a said Tier softly, athat thereas a law or two against a common man like me sharing a seat with the Emperor. If youave a need to be incognito, it might be better to take off that ring.a Phoran (doubtless the boyas name was Phorana"though Tier couldnat remember the number that went with the name) looked upset for a moment, glanced at the ring that was the Emperoras seal, then shrugged.

aIall keep your advice in mind. Well enough. If you know that much, look here.a He tapped the paper impatiently. aI need something I can use as a fulcrum to move the power structure in the Council of Septs so that I donat continue to be just a figurehead, and this document is it. It was in my twice-yearly stack of petitions to be signed into law. There arenat many signatures on thisa"only a few people who owed Jenne something. Like as not most of them didnat know what it was they were signing. You canat even tell that this land is Gerantas without this map.a aRight,a said Tier. He hadnat realized that the boy was a figurehead, but then he hadnat concerned himself with any news outside of Redern since head left Gerantas services several years before the last Phoran died. aTwenty-sixth,a he said aloud.

aOnly if you donat count the first Phoran,a said Phoran, not the least discomposed. aI like to, though my father didnat. Are you still with me?a aRight,a Tier nodded. aYou have a bill, obviously a favor, but not for a Sept who is very powerful. So if you decide to decline to sign it, youare not going to make a slew of enemies. Who could object to your refusal to grant one Septas lands to another without better reason than youave been given? And Iall put up my right arm that Gerant is no traitor or mischief maker that will embarrass you on this. Heas true as oak. So you refuse to sign it, and the rest of the council either supports you, or makes it look like they think the council should have the right to take land from whatever Sept they want without giving an adequate reason.a aThatas it,a said the boy, gathering up his map and document. aAnd I have a toehold into ruling on my own. So, you have done me a favor.a Carefully he folded the parchment so it fit into his pocket with the map. aI owe you an equal favor. Before I determine how best to repay you, tell me what you are doing here, what this Path that Iam not a member of is, and what the two have to do with each other.a aItas faster if I start with the Path,a said Tier after thinking about it for a minute. aThe rest of the story should fall out of that.a Briefly he outlined the information Telleridge and Myrceria had given him.

Phoran stopped him. aThey kill the Traveler wizards for power, these wizards who wear black robes?a Tier nodded. aSo Iam told. Iave only met two peoplea"three with youa"since I was brought here.a He thought the ladies in the bath didnat count. aI havenat actually seen any of this for myself.a aYou still havenat told me what you are doing here,a said Phoran. aOr who you are, other than someone who fought under Gerant in the last war.a aI am a farmer who occasionally sings for a few coppers at the local tavern in Redern,a Tier said. aI usually spend the winter months trapping for furs. I was on my way home. I have a vague memory of seeing a group of strangers, and then I awoke in this cell. Telleridgea"thatas the man I told you abouta"a aTelleridge?a said Phoran. aI know him, though I didnat know he was a wizard. Did he tell you why they wanted you enough to take you from Redern?a asked Phoran. Then a strange expression came over his face. aIs that the Redern that belongs to the Sept of Leheigh?a aYes,a Tier agreed.

aAvar?a said Phoran almost to himself.

Avar, Tier recalled, was the given name of the new Sept, the new Sept who was supposed to be so influential with the Emperor.

aIs Avar a member of this Path?a Tier shrugged. aI donat know. The only two Iave met by name are Telleridge and Myrceriaa"and I donat think shead be considered a member.a Phoran got to his feet and began pacing. aWhy you?a he asked again. aWhy did they go all the way to Redern to find you? You arenat a Traveler, not if youare a farmer in Redern who used to be a solder.a aBecause I have a magical talent usually associated with the Travelers,a replied Tier. Preempting the next question, he began telling Phoran what he knew about the Orders.

Phoran held up a hand. aEnough,a he said. aI believe you. Letas get you out of here, then you can explain anything you feel necessary.a Tier followed him to the threshold, but when he leaned forward to step through the door, white-hot pain convulsed his body and a shock of magic threw him back several feet into the cell.

aWhat was that?a said Phoran, startled.

aHe is bound,a said the Memory. It sounded like a crowas mating call or the rattle of dry bones.

Tier wobbled to his feet. aIt talks?a The Emperor looked at the Memory. aSometimes. But this is the first time itas ever volunteered information. Are you all right?a Tier nodded. aYour Memory is right. There must be some sort of magic here I cannot cross.a aCan you do something with it? Didnat you say that you have magic?a aHe is bound,a said the Memory again.

aStop that,a said Tier, a command that usually worked when Jes began to get too creepy. He turned to Phoran. aI donat have the kind of magic that could counter this, and they have managed to keep me from what little useful magic I do have. It looks like Iam stuck here.a Phoran nodded. aVery well.a He came back into the room and shut the door. aThere are wizards who are supposed to serve me, or serve the Empire at least, but I donat know if any of them are the ones who belong to the Path. Find out who the Pathas wizards are, and then maybe I can find a wizard to undo this.a He gave Tier an apologetic look. aI am more emperor in name than in reality or I could just order your release. The twentietha"nineteenth by common reckoninga"had real power.a Tier grinned, aThatas because head ordered the death of fifteen Septs by the time he was your age and accounted for another three or four personally.a aIam rather finicky in my food choices,a said Phoran with mock sadness. aIall never manage to be properly terrifying.a aYou wouldnat have to suck the marrow from their bones the way the Nineteena"ah, excuse mea"Twenty did,a said Tier solemnly. aI suspect a cooked heart or two would do just fine.a aI donat eat heart,a said Phoran firmly. aThough I suppose I could feed it to the grieving heira"that might have a similar effect.a Tier and Phoran gave each other a look of mutual approval.

aI already owe you a favor,a said Phoran, abut your experience is different than my own. Iad like your opinion on my problem.a He waved at the Memory.

aI am, always, your servant, my emperor,a Tier was rather pleased to find that he meant it.

aFor the past three months,a Phoran began, aIave had this creature. Not that it follows me all the time, you understand. Usually, it just visits me once a night.a He smiled grimly and sat down on the bed.

Tier followed his example and collapsed on the other end of the bed. He should have waited until the Emperor bid him sit, but between whatever happened during the time he couldnat remember and the jolt the doorway had given him, his joints were all but jelly.

aSometimes when I canat sleep,a Phoran said, aI go exploring the shut-off places in the palace. I have this key,a he took one out of his pocket. aItas supposed to open every door in the palace. It didnat do yours, but it opened the turnkeyas box that had your key in it.a He put it away and began his story again. aAnyway, one night a few months ago I was wandering through the Kaore winga"thatas one of the ones my father shut down, Iam told. Itas usually pretty boring: long corridors with identical rooms on either side, that sort of thing. But this time I heard some noise at the end of one of the corridors.

aNo oneas supposed to be therea"but sometimes people are. I sneaked down to a door that was ajar.a He pulled the velvet fabric of his pants and absently rubbed it between thumb and index finger.

aThere were a number of people in dark robes with hoods over their heads. They were standing in a loose circle, chanting. A seventh man was kneeling, blindfolded and bound in the center. If Iad known what they were going to do, Iad have tried to stop it somehow. But by the time I saw the knife it was too late. One of the robed men had already slit the bound manas throat.a Phoran got off the bed and began to pace restlessly. aThere was blood everywherea"I hadnat realized . . . It was too late for the dead man, and I thought that they might not be too excited at having a witness so I left as quickly as I could. The Memory came to me the next night.a Phoran looked at the creature solemnly, then sank back onto the bed and began rolling up his sleeve. aIt comes to me every night,a he said, showing Tier marks on the inside of his wrist that climbed in fading scars to the hollow of his elbow.

aAfter it feeds it tells me that in return it owes me the answer to a question. Usually its answers arenat very useful. Tonight I asked if it knew someone who could tell me something about the Sept of Gerantas lands and it brought me here.a Tier said, aYou think that you interrupted them killing their last Traveler prisoner.a He considered it. aI think you are righta"how many groups of dark-robed men do you have going around killing people in the palace?a aThere might be as many as five or ten,a he said. aBut not that manage to summon or create something like this.a He pointed at his dark comrade. aThis is wizardry.a Tier nodded slowly. aIam not a wizard, but Iave dealt with them. If this was something that might result from their meddling, Iad think theyad be careful that it would not attach itself to them. Maybe some magic. That would mean that you were the only one there it could attach itself to.a He got off the bed and walked closer to the Memory. His eyes wouldnat quite focus on it, reminding him forcibly of the way Jes could fade into the shadows when he wanted to.

aHow did you know that I could answer the Emperoras question tonight?a asked Tier.

The thing shifted restlessly. aYou fed me true,a it said at last. aI know you as I know Phoran, twenty-seventh emperor of that name.a aI fed you?a Tier asked.

a aNumberless were the heroes who fell,a a whispered the Memory in a voice quite different than it had been using: it was no longer without inflection. The change was remarkable.

aYou were my listener?a said Tier.

aI was Kerine to your Red Ernave,a agreed the Memory.

aWhat else are you?a Tier took a step nearer to it.

aI am death,a it said and was gone.

aDid you understand what it meant?a asked Phoran.

Tier rubbed his hands together lightly. aOnly a bit of it,a he said. aApparently it feeds on more than just blood. I gave it a story and it took more than I offereda"which is how it knew that Iad been one of Gerantas commanders.a Head invoked magic in that storya"more magic than head ever brought forth beforea"and it had only been shortly after that when Telleridge had informed him that his magic was contained. Head thought that Telleridge had meant that theyad taken his magic awaya"but perhaps it was more subtle than that.

aWould you tell me a lie?a he asked Phoran.

aMy stallion is cow-hocked,a he said immediately, apparently unfazed by the abrupt change in subject. aWhat are you doing?a aWell,a said Tier. aI misunderstood what Telleridge meant when he said they had contained my magic. I can tell if you liea"but not Telleridge or Myrceria.a aYour magic works, but not on the members of the Path,a Phoran said.

aSo it seems.a aI have two more requests before I go,a said Phoran. aFirst, I ask that you not tell anyone about the Memory.a He gave Tier another bleak smile. aItas more than a social problem for me, you know. If a whisper of the Memory got out Iad face a headsmanas axe. The Empire cannot forget the lessons learned from the Shadowed: the Emperor must be free of magic.a aWithout your permission, no one will hear it from my lips,a promised Tier.

aWould you see if you can find out if your Sept, Avar the Sept of Leheigh, is a member of the Secret Path?a He sighed. aTelleridge is . . . a spider who avoids the light of day while he spins his webs and sends his friends and foes whirling in deadly earnest, unaware whose threads pull them this way and that. If he is involved with the Secret Path, then they are a threat to me and vice versa. I need to know who I can trust.a aIf I can discover it,a Tier agreed, then gave his emperor a wry grin. aSince I donat have any choice about staying, I might as well make myself useful.a He slept for a while after Phoran left. He had no idea how long because his cell allowed for no daylight, just the endless glow of the stones that lit his room.

Longing for home brought him to his feet. Frustration sent him pacing. He hadnat been able to ask if Phoran could get a message to Seraph. His tongue wouldnat shape the words.

By Cormorant and Owl, I bind you that you will not ask anyone to help you escape . . . Seraph would help him escape if she could. He supposed that was enough to invoke Telleridgeas magic.

If Seraph knew where to find him . . . but she did not. She probably thought him dead after all this time.

He probably would die without seeing her again: there was something in the arrogance of Telleridge that told Tier that many Travelers had died here.

Tier closed his eyes and rested his face against the cool stone wall. Without the distraction of sight, he could pull her into his heartas thoughts. Owl memory, she called it, when he was able to recall conversations held months before. Gifted, his grandfather said, when he could sing a song after the first time head heard it. Blessed, he thought now, visualizing the pale-faced child Seraph had been the first time head seen her. Blessed to have his memories to keep in his heart in this place.

In his mindas eye, he built her face as it had been, little by little, loving the curve of her shoulder and the odd pale color of her hair.

Proud, he thought, she had been so proud. It was in the stubborn set of her chin, raised in defiance of the men in that tavern. He could see the bruise on her wrist where the innkeeper had grabbed her and yanked her out of bed.

Head been intrigued by her then, he thought as he had before. In the clear light of his memory he could see how young shead been, little more than a child, and yet theyad been married less than a season later.

Eschewing the luxuries his cell now offered, Tier sat on the floor and set his back against the wall. He remembered the very moment that he knew he loved her.

Two days after Jes was born, Tier came back from the barn to find Seraph sitting on the end of the bed, back straight as a board, with Jes held protectively in her arms.

aI have something to say to you,a she said, as welcoming as an angry hedgehog.

He took off his coat and hung it up. aAll right,a head said, wondering how head managed to offend her this time.

Her eyes narrowed, she told him that their son was a Guardian. She explained how difficult Jes would find it to maintain a balance between daytime and nighttime personalities.

aIf he were a girl, he would stand a better chance,a she said in the cold, clear voice she only used when she was really upset. aMale Guardians seldom maintain their balance after puberty. If they become maddened, they will kill anyone who crosses their path except for those in their charge. Once that happens, they must be killed because they cannot be confined.a Jes began to fuss and she set him against her shoulder and rocked him gentlya"keeping Tier at a distance by the force of her gaze. aI had a brother who was a Guardian, adopted from another tribe. Often Guardians are given to other clans to raise because the normal anxieties of birth parents seem to add strain to the Guardianas burden. It is an honor to raise a Guardian child, and no clan would refuse to take him.a Give up his son? The shock of the suggestion ripped cleanly through dismay that had encased him as he realized the terrible thing that the gods had laid upon his small son. How could she think that head entertain a suggestion that they throw Jes away because he was too much trouble? How could she consider deserting her child?

She wouldnat. Not she. She who fought demons for people she didnat even know, would never, ever, shrink at anything that would threaten her second family.

aHow old was your Guardian brother when he died?a asked Tier finally.

aRisovar was thirty,a she said, her hands fluttering restlessly over Jes, as if she wanted to clutch him close, but was afraid she might hurt him if she did. aHe was among the first who died of the plague.a aThen you know how it is done,a Tier said. aJes will stay with us, and you will teach me how to raise a Guardian who will die of ripe old age.a Her face had come alive then, and he saw what it had cost her to be honest with him. When he cradled his family against him, mother and child, shead whispered, aIad have killed anyone who would have tried to take him.a aMe, too,a Tier had said fiercely into her moon-colored hair. No one would ever separate them.

aMe, too,a said Tier, in his cell in the palace at Taela.

How best to weather this captivity? The answers came to him in Gerantas dry tenor. Know your enemy. Know what they want so you know where to expect their next attack. Discover their strengths and avoid them. Find their weaknesses and exploit them with your strengths. Knowledge is a better weapon than a sword.

He smiled affably when Myrceria entered his room.

aIf you would come with me, sir,a she said. aWeall make you ready for presentation. After the ceremony youall be given the freedom of the Eyrie and all the pleasures it can provide you.a The women whoad tried to bathe him once before were back in the bathing pool, and this time Myrceria wouldnat let him send them out. They scrubbed, combed, shaved, trimmed, and ignored his blushes and protests.

When one of the women started after his hair, Myrceria caught her hand, aNo, leave it long. Weall braid it and it will look properly exotic.a They persuaded him into court clothing, the like of which head have never willingly put on. He might actually have refused to wear them, even with his resolution to be a meek and mild guest while he gathered knowledge of his enemy, if it werenat for the fear in their eyes. He could see that, if they didnat turn him out pretty as a ladyas mare, it wouldnat be him that suffered. So he protested and made rude comments, but he wore the silly things.

There was a polished metal mirror embedded in the wall, and the women pushed and shoved him until he stood in front of it.

Baggy red velvet trousers, tight at waist and ankles, were half-concealed by a tunic that hung straight from shoulder to knees. From the weight of it, the tunic was real cloth of gold. Under the tunic, his shirt was blood-red silk embroidered with metallic gold thread. Theyad shaved his face smooth, then oiled his hair with something that left flakes of metal in it that caught the light as he moved. Then theyad braided it with gold and red cords that gradually replaced his own hair so the braid hung down to his hips, where it ended in gold and red tassels. On his feet were gold slippers encrusted with bits of red glass. At least he hoped it was glass.

After looking at the full effect, he hung his head and closed his eyes.

aLassies, if my wife ever saw me like this shead never let me live it down.a Myrceria tapped him playfully with one manicured finger. aYou look handsome, admit it. We did a good job, ladies, although he wasnat so bad to start out.a Tier looked at himself in the mirror again. If he looked carefully, he could see how the outfit might have been inspired by Traveleras garments. They wore the loose pants and the knee-length tunica"but one of the things that Seraph liked about Rederni clothes was the bright colors. Her own people wore mostly undyed fabrics or earth tones.

Tier sighed, aIam glad thereas no one here who knows me. Iad never live this down.a They covered his magnificent gaudiness with a brown robe and pulled its hood down to hide his face.

aThere now,a said Myrceria. aYou are ready.a She hesitated, and the practiced manner of a court whore faded a little. aYouave made our job easier,a she said. aLet me help you a little. The wizards will be waiting when we take you out the door. Go with them quietly; they wonat hurt you. Theyall escort you through the Eyriea"the largest room that belongs to the Path. Itas an auditorium tonight, but usually it is just a room for people to gather in. The wizards will take you to the stage at the end and introduce you to the Passerines and whatever Raptors decided to come.a He took her hand in his and bent to kiss it. aThank you for your kindness, Myrceria. Ladies.a There were four men in black robes waiting for him, just as Myrceria had promised. Like him, their hoods were pulled over their faces.

Tier hesitated in the doorway, unprepared for the fearful reluctance he felt at the sight of them and the sudden conviction that head seen the knobby hands of the man nearest him holding a small knife wet with blood.

He repressed his fear and the anger it called. With a small smile he set himself in the center of the procession.

aShall we go, gentlemen?a he said pleasantly.

The Eyrie was made up of broad shelves of level flooring with short drops between sections; the level shelves narrowed as they neared the stage at the far side of the room.

The uppermost section, where Tier and his escort entered, was mostly occupied by a bar laden with food. Behind the bar was an open doorway where servants appeared with trays of food or armloads of ale mugs.